Wednesday, September 25, 2002

the lord's name in vain

Okay, so the world sucks, people are not as nice as I like to think they are. Someone stole my bike last night.

Fuck you Tobgye and your stupid karma bullshit. I steal. Yes, it is true. But, I steal groceries and wine from huge supermarkets. I do not steal people's children, people's motherfucking feet, people's motherfucking bikes. God damn it. I hate bicycle theifs. I really can not think of a person more horrible, or something I would have been more upset about it if it were stolen. If someone took our tv, our dvd player, our fucking furniture, I would have been stunned but not sad, not so fucking sad since my bike means something so much to me, means everything to me. It is a fucking material object granted, and perhaps it is a little petty of me to care about it - but it was more - it was my compadre for so many biking adventures, it is what I have fallen off of quite a few times, what has welcomed me back, taken me into its arms on long bike rides when no one else would, when I was feeling like the world was all shit, one big steaming pile of it, and I needed to escape, and there was my bike, always there, the getaway car always revved up and waiting, my version of a dog here in Sarasota. In motherfucking Florida. Where bikes are stolen, where children are taken from mothers and appearantly this is okay, where police officers laugh when I report it, and tell me to come back in a few days when I find it, when my asshole excuse for a roommate makes fun of me, fails to see how this and other things in my life could possibly be upsetting, fails to see beyond her own fat ass - as far as that is, still not far enough to grasp, maybe even to sympathize with why I might be sad, with why Sarasota is a fucking tar pit of hell where everything good managed to escape the tar, where everything that didn't is fucked up from sucking in the tar fumes, and goddamn it, everything is not okay. My motherfucking day has not been going motherfucking fine, you stupid slag, so don't ask me.

And goddamn it one more time. No, many more. Goddamn it. Goddamn it. Goddamn it. And yes, I am an idiot. Yes, this could have been prevented so easily. Yes, I never learn my lesson. Yes, I know all of this so don't fucking remind me of it, I know this and more. I didn't use a bike lock because I am an idiot. My bike was stolen my first year and over that summer, I bought another insanely priced bike with my summer earnings, buying some stupid 400 dollar bike that some stupid punk motherfucker is riding around motherfucking Sarasota in right now. Grr, all right, just one more time: God damn it!

Last night when I was desperatly biking around on Rebecca's bike, trying to find my bike, I was hoping to God that I would see my bike, playing out imaginary scenes in my head of catching the bike theif, of them biking away, and me biking maniaclly to catch up with them, and like Keanu in Speed, hopping out of my vehicle, off of my bike, and landing on my other bike, drop kicking their theiving ass onto the ground in a righteous reclamation of my bike, my motherfucking bike. But no bike theif was to be found, only a stupid boy in a motherfucking Bob Marley shirt, some stupid white boy, someone all too typical of New College, some motherfucking idiot, who I got stuck behind on the overpass, and who was walking just as slow as his motherfucking Birkenstocks could be dragged along the concrete, doing his stupid hippy shuffle. I made it past him and screamed as loud as I could, screamed because again, everything is not okay, because people are idiots, because my bike gets stolen, and then I have to get stuck behind someone so typical of this place, of this town where bikes get stolen, that I wanted to fly like a Wicked Witch in a tornado, to laugh manically and put a hex on people that steal bikes and stupid hippys.

And motherfuck, things are not going well with Andrew. We have yet to do anything for whatever reasons, and motherfuck - this is better left said for another time, another entry when I am not being a rageaholic, but yeah, I don't think there's any more Andrew and I, if there even ever was. I can't deal with uninspired living anymore. Just one more time: God damn it!

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